


New Orleans Cemetery Horror Story

by kavkakat



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Gen, mild swearing as always, teenagers messing around with magic powers beyond their control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 10:05:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1978755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kavkakat/pseuds/kavkakat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joey wants to raise the dead. Mary thinks it's hilarious. Dylan will go along with what Mary wants.<br/>Laura has a bad feeling about this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Orleans Cemetery Horror Story

**Author's Note:**

> I went to New Orleans on a school trip, and my group got locked into a cemetery. SO I wrote a short story about some kids messing around with voodoo and getting more than they thought they would.  
> Here's my tag on [tumblr](http://kavkakat.tumblr.com/tagged/new-orleans-independent-study-project) for it, where you can see my illustrations for it as well :)

The air hung hot and humid over New Orleans, even hours after sunset. On Bourbon Street, the sounds of jazz mixed with Ke$ha as bars competed with each other for customers. Some people danced in the street, more laughing and stumbling and trying not to spill their drinks than anything else, while others, on the balconies, threw beads down to the ones they thought deserved them. Usually, the recipients were more than a little naked.

Laura was glad that she was still in possession of all her clothing. Her mother had a way of finding out about her indiscretions, and she _knew_ her mother would be furious if she took off her shirt just to get some beads. She envied her friend Mary her free nature. Even though Mary seemed much more drunk than Laura, she also seemed to be having a lot more fun. She and her boyfriend Dylan shared drinks and laughed at inside jokes, and when Joey joined in Laura felt a little left out. Noise was all around her, but she felt a little silent place within her, as if she wasn’t fully inside her body. Uh, maybe she was drinking more than she thought.

She trailed after her three friends from bar to bar, keeping them in sight but usually staying closer to the bar and flirting. Her feet already hurt from all the walking tours Mary (and Joey, although he would protest) dragged them on that day, and she wasn’t usually a fan of dancing in any case. Some time after midnight, the four made their way out onto the street again. Laura was grateful for the momentary decline in noise, but she had no doubt that they were just headed for another bar.

So it was to her surprise when Joey led them to a small shop on a street corner. Laura paused before entering, looking up, and she sighed. Marie Laveau’s Shop of Voodoo, of course. Joey was obsessed with it, more by the thought of zombies and naked priestesses than by the actual religion. Laura ducked her head as she entered, and sighed in relief. Whatever else this shop was, it was quiet and not crowded. She was a little surprised that such a tourist-geared shop would be empty, but she wasn’t going to complain.

Mary examined the candles, holding up a red one in the shape of a man. Dylan was with her, arms wrapped around her waist, almost supporting her. Joey stood at the counter, leaning over it with a charming grin. Laura rolled her eyes, knowing that he was trying to flirt with the woman behind the counter. She lurked by the door, picking up jar after jar of herbs. White sage – _to purify the ritual space_ ; low john root – _for protection and to break hexes_ ; desert rose – _to aid in manifestations_. She shook her head. She didn’t believe in voodoo, but thought it was mildly interesting.

“But I want to, you know, summon the _dead_ ,” Joey said loudly. Laura glanced over. The woman behind the counter looked furious: eyes and mouth thin; hands fisted so tight that the skin over her knuckles was almost white; head tilted back a bit so her chin jutted out. Laura wondered if Joey was coming on to her – she was certainly beautiful, with creamy brown skin and shiny black hair, and Joey was an incredible flirt.

Mary and Dylan were still giggling over the red wax statue, so Laura went over to Joey to try and diffuse the situation. She smiled sheepishly at the woman and laid her hand on Joey’s shoulder. “Hey,” she said, “You done yet?”

“Laura!” Joey exclaimed, an arm almost taking her head off as he swung around to face her. “I’m buying a _gris-gris_.” He pronounced it “griss griss.” He grinned down into Laura’s face, and she tried not to lean away too obviously. “We’re gonna summon the _dead._ ”

“Are we,” Laura said. “I really don’t think so.”

Joey swung his arm at Laura again and she thought was really _was_ trying to take her head off this time, but instead it landed over her shoulder, and he pulled her closer to her. He really smelled of cheap beer now. She glanced over at the woman behind the counter and edged away as far as she could. Joey didn’t notice, saying, “No, really, it’ll be _awesome_. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? Zombies or something? Yeah, right.” He laughed.

The woman behind the counter smiled, showing teeth, and said, “Or something.”

Joey gestured wildly. “Exactly!” He grinned earnestly at the woman, and Laura slipped out from under his arm. She went over to Mary and Dylan, ignoring Joey as he continued to demand a _gris-gris_ from the woman.

“Hey, we should get him out of here,” she told them.

“He’s fine,” Mary said and giggled. Dylan kissed her neck and said, “Yeah, don’t worry.”

“He’s being an asshole,” Laura snapped.

“Eh,” said Dylan and shrugged. “He’s just being Joey.”

Laura rolled her eyes, but then Joey leaped over, brandishing a small grey bag. “I’ve got it!” he exclaimed. “Come on, come on, we have to go!” Then he ran out the door, Mary following quickly. Dylan shrugged and went after them, but Laura just stood in the shop for a moment.

“That’s gonna hurt him, won’t it?” she asked the woman behind the counter.

The woman shrugged. “Only as much as he deserves.”

“He doesn’t deserve _anything_ ,” Laura hissed.

“He wants to raise the dead,” the woman said. “That never comes without a price.” She smiled coldly. “But if you run and stop them, maybe nothing will happen.”

Laura wanted to curse at her, but with her luck her friends were already down at the streetcar, and she didn’t need any ore curses following their group tonight. She turned and ran.

 

* * *

 

Laura had absolutely no success in persuading Joey to stop being an ass. They argued on the street in the French Quarter and then in the streetcar and then on the street in the Garden District. The one time she tried to snatch the _gris-gris_ away, he had laughed and held the bag above his head, treating it like a game. Laura gave up after that and considered leaving them to their fate. But – well, Laura had grown up with stories of voodoo, but she had no idea if this would actually work. And if it did, she didn’t want to risk the lives of her closest friends on the hope that it wouldn’t.

The cemetery they were most familiar with was Lafayette #1, and Laura was a little thankful that Joey didn’t want to try and find some other cemetery at this time of night, on top of _raising the dead_. The gates to the cemetery were locked, a length of chain wrapped around the central bars of the doors. Laura hoped that would be enough to dissuade her friends (while Joey had come up with the idiot idea, Mary had quickly joined up and Dylan of course followed his girlfriend). The gates were imposing, stretching up higher than her head and solidly attached to the cemetery walls. Inside, eerie white marble tombs loomed out of the darkness that swallowed everything farther than ten meters away. Laura _really_ hoped the locked doors would stop her friends.

Joey stumbled up to the gates and grasped at the padlock. One hand grasped at the bars to keep him upright (so he was still feeling the alcohol, then), while the other yanked on the chain. “Locked,” he muttered with disgust.

Laura folded her arms, a little smug, and waited for him to give up.

“Could always climb over,” Mary suggested and giggled.

Laura scowled at her and said, “Don’t encourage him. Look – the gate is _locked_. Maybe we, you know, just _shouldn’t do this_. Not that hard a concept.”

“Don’t be a bitch,” Mary said.

“Fuck you,” Laura snapped. “You know what? Fuck you all – I’m outta here.” She turned on heel and stomped off down the street, anger pounding in her temples. She didn’t know why she bothered. She got halfway down the block before she heard running steps and then Dylan caught up with her.

He caught her arm and swung her around, and she slapped his hand away. He held his hands up, placating her. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one side, thrusting her chin out mulishly.

“Joey is a fucking ass,” she hissed.

“Yeah, say that again,” Dylan agreed. “But he’s still my friend. Yours, too. Kind of our job to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.”

“Fuck that,” Laura muttered.

“Or anyone else,” Dylan continued as if she hadn’t said anything. “I mean, you don’t have to come in. But, really? It’s harmless. We’re just humoring Joey, you know how he’s loves this supernatural shit.”

Laura scowled over Dylan’s shoulder. Mary and Joey were hanging off the gates and stumbling around like they were drunk. She sighed. Well, they were. “I don’t know,” she said.

“Yeah, don’t worry.” Dylan put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. He smiled reassuringly. “I’m gonna keep them from falling into a grave, okay?”

Laura watched him head back to the others. Joey slapped him on the back and Mary gave him a kiss, wrapping her arms around his waist. After a moment, Laura walked over as well. Dylan was right; she shouldn’t worry so much about this. Voodoo was real, but not this stuff – this was just tourist crap, and nothing would happen.

Mary hip checked her when she was close enough, and Laura smiled a bit. Like brother, like sister – this was about as much of an apology as she’d get from Mary. Neither Mary nor Joey was a big fan of admitting their faults.

Joey grinned wide and pumped a fist into the air. “Alright!” he exclaimed. “We are _so_ doing this!”

Laura pursed her lips and hunched her shoulders. Joey leaped onto the gates, scrambling up and over them easily. Mary followed quickly, Dylan giving her a boost to get up to the top. He turned to Laura and raised his eyebrows. Laura rolled her eyes, but she smiled at him and relaxed a bit. He boosted her up and they climbed over together.

Mary was waiting impatiently on the other side, tapping her foot and staring off down the aisle of the cemetery after Joey. He had taken off as soon as his feet touched the ground and already faded into the darkness ahead. Laura rolled her eyes and jogged after him. Dylan would take care of Mary; she figured it was down to her to take care of Joey. Keep him from falling into graves and the like.

She caught up to him at a wide crossroads about two thirds of the way back along the main aisle of the cemetery. At least, Laura guessed it was about halfway back; it was hard to tell with the darkness settling thick around her. She swallowed and glanced around quickly, hugging herself against the sudden chill.

Joey piled a few handfuls of grass and twigs in the center of the crossroads. Laura glanced over her shoulder and could barely make out Mary and Dylan. “And what are you doing with that?” she asked and folded her arms. “I thought you were summoning the dead.”

Joey flashed her a bright grin, eyes still a little hazy from alcohol. “We have to burn the _gris-gris_ to get it to work.” And sure enough, he was fishing out a lighter. Laura frowned and turned back to see Dylan and Mary coming closer. She leaned down and snatched the lighter out of Joey’s hands. “What?” he exclaimed.

Laura crossed her arms. “Wait until everyone’s here, right?” she said to cover up her unease. She pursed her lips again as Dylan and Mary fully emerged from the shadows. Dylan raised her eyebrows at her and she huffed a sigh and tossed the lighter back to Joey. He fumbled to catch it, but when he did, he shot her another grin.

“Ready, everyone?” he asked.

Mary grinned and cheered. Dylan smiled a bit, arms wound around Mary’s waist to hold her up. Laura shrugged and nodded. Joey lit the fire and it slowly built up, the light almost painful on Laura’s eyes after all the dark. Once the fire was big enough, Joey pulled out the _gris-gris_ and held it over the fire. He paused dramatically, looking back up at his friends, and then he dropped the bag.

 

* * *

 

 

Laura stumbled into the wall of a tomb, hands in front of her to brace herself. The stone was rough and cool under her hands. She pressed her cheek against it and closed her eyes, still seeing the afterimages of the fire on the inside of her eyelids. There was a rustling sound nearby and she tensed, huddling against the tomb as if she could disappear into it completely if she tried hard enough. She opened her eyes slowly and stayed _very still_ until the rusting stopped and she could see again.

Only then did she unfold slightly and stumble forward. She started in fright every time she heard a noise or saw a shadow move, even if it was her own. (Especially if it was her own.) She had a vague idea how much time had passed since the fire exploded and she had run for the cemetery entrance (she had checked her phone a while back, brightness as low as it would go), but what felt like hours was really minutes, and she wasn’t sure what to trust. She wanted to trust her phone clock, but then again she had also trusted that the _gris-gris_ wouldn’t do anything.

And look where that got her.

She continued to feel her way forward. She kept her arms outstretched, no matter how _wrong_ it felt (keep them close, protect yourself, her instincts said), because she needed to keep one hand on something solid at all times or she knew she’d lose herself and never get out again. The few moments when she had to leave one tomb and stumble forward to find the next were the most terrifying of her life. Most of those times, her shins found the next tomb before her hands did and she went down hard, landing in gravel pits.

Suddenly, she heard a loud rustling really nearby. Laura froze with terror in the narrow space between tombs. Her heart sped up, blood pounding in her ears, and she felt tears prick at her eyes. She didn’t want to die, she didn’t want to die –

A shadow drew away from a tomb several meters away. Laura knew she should do something – run, scream, just _move_ – but she couldn’t get the message form her brain to her fear-frozen body. She felt like she couldn’t breath, her throat tight. Her cheeks felt wet.

The shadow stopped a few meters away and started to unfold upwards. Laura wanted to scream, but she couldn’t get the breath – oh fuck –

Then the shadow stumbled forward a few more steps, and Laura collapsed back against the tomb, boneless in relief. “You fucking bastard,” she snarled at Joey. She covered her face and wiped away her tears with jerky, angry swipes of her hands. After a few moments, when Joey didn’t respond, Laura looked back at him and snapped, “Joey, come one, don’t be a jerk,” she snapped. “You fucking asshole, say _something_.” She braced herself against the tomb and pushed herself upright and closer to Joey. She was going to get into his face and fucking _tear_ him a new one.

Then Joey smiled and his smile was wrong, wide and full of teeth and – were they always that sharp? Laura’s eyes widened and she slowly met Joey’s gaze. His eyes were red. Joey’s eyes were red, and just barely glowing. Oh no, no. Not-Joey’s grin widened and _fuck_ he was going to eat her –

Laura snapped out of it, turned on heel, and _ran_.

She really didn’t care where, just as long as it was _away_ from that – that _thing_ behind her. She crashed into a tomb across the aisle and scrambled for the space between tombs, and then she threw herself into the darkness. It felt like the walls of the tombs were pressing in around her, and she smacked face first into another tomb. She spun around, back pressed against the stone, and there was Joey, slinking through the gap between tombs, grin wide and grotesque and –

She threw herself to the side, scraping the skin off her cheek in the process. She grappled with the walls of tombs rising up all around her, and her breath was coming fast and short in her chest, and she knew, she just knew the shadow monster was just behind her and about to reach out and grab her –

A figure stumbled out of a crack between tombs in front of her and she crashed into it and they both went down in a confusing pile of tangles limbs and. Laura pushed at the figure, trying to get away, but the space between tombs was too small to move and she sobbed in terror, waiting for the teeth to close in around her.

After a moment, when she realized that she wasn’t actually dying, Laura gripped the body on top of her and pushed it up slightly, and then pushed all the hair out of her face. She squinted in the darkness, and she felt a wave of relief break down over her, because it was Mary on top of her, Mary pushing at her and trembling with fear.

Or was it? Hadn’t she thought the monster was Joey?

Laura decided to ignore that voice for the moment (and she hoped that was the right choice, because she didn’t want to die), and she grabbed Mary’s wrists to keep her from hitting her anymore. “Mary, Mary,” she whispered. “Stop it, it’s me, it’s Laura.”

“No, no, no,” Mary cried softly. “No, don’t eat me, no, don’t.”

Okay, one more point for this being the real Mary. “Mary, come on,” Laura said urgently. She tried to get out from under her friend, but with the way Mary was sprawled, Laura was trapped in the tiny gab between concrete foundations, with a corner digging deep into her spine and her left arm beneath her. The most she could do was hold Mary as still as possible and whisper reassurances.

Even though Laura felt like she was the one who deserved some reassurances here.

She still expected the shadow monster, the Not-Joey, to slink up and grin down at them and swallow them whole.

Eventually, Mary stop struggling, even though she was still shaking pretty badly, and she braced herself against the tombs on either side and lifted herself off of Laura. She sat huddled with her arms around herself and forehead almost touching her knees while Laura gingerly levered herself up and checked herself over for injury. Everywhere hurt, everything ached, but she didn’t think she was hurt too bad. Scrapes and cuts she could deal with.

Her cheeks felt damp and raw, and she figured that maybe her tears were cleaning out that scrape on her cheek. “God,” she breathed, and sat next to Mary, leaned into her, and turned her face into her hair. “God, Mary, god.”

“I want to go home,” Mary whispered.

“Yeah, me too,” Laura replied. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. She didn’t want to get up, but they weren’t safe, and sooner or later the monster would come back and eat them, and they needed to move. She pushed herself up on shaky legs, and then grabbed Mary’s hand to pull her up as well.

“We need to go,” she said.

Mary looked at her, a little lost and confused.

“We need to get out,” Laura said. “We need to go. Stand up.”

Mary stood shakily holding tight to Laura’s hand, tight enough that Laura wondered if there would be any blood left in it after they got out of here. At least it was a sharp point of pain that she could concentrate on and keep her focus. She nodded jerkily at Mary and turned to find their way out to the main aisle.

Either it had gotten lighter, or Laura’s eyes had finally adjusted to the dark, because she felt like she could see farther than she could before. She looked up at the sky, but she couldn’t see much of it between the tombs rising on either side of her. But when they reached a larger aisle, eerily large and empty after the close quarters between tombs, Laura looked up again and saw that the clouds were breaking apart.

About time, she thought. Maybe now the monster couldn’t get them.

The moment after she thought that, she glimpsed a flash of red from across the aisle, but before she could draw the breath to scream, it was gone. She clenched her jaw, eyes wide. Mary made a sound of pain, and Laura glanced back at her. She realized she was practically crushing Mary’s hand and made herself relax her grip.

“This way,” Laura said and tugged Mary in what she hoped was the direction of the cemetery entrance. The cemetery hadn’t looked that big from the outside, so it couldn’t be that far away. And then they’d get out and – but Dylan and Joey. The _real_ Joey. A selfish part of Laura said that it was Joey’s own fault and that he deserved to just _stay here_ but the larger, nicer part of her reminded her that she’d regret it if they died and she didn’t even try to help them.

But first she had to get Mary out, because with the way she was clinging to Laura and trembling, she couldn’t take many more cemeteries at night.

Laura had been right. The cemetery gates were close. She only saw those red eyes three more times before reaching the entrance. Laura didn’t think she’d ever be so happy to see those imposing iron bars, but she was, almost happier than she was the day she found out she’d passed her freshmen writing seminar.

Mary didn’t want to let go of her. She didn’t say anything, not even when Laura asked her questions, but she stared off into the shadows and rubbed her hands over her arms like she was cold. Laura could sympathize, so she told Mary to climb the fence and wait for her there.

 _That_ finally got a response. “You’re not coming?” Mary asked, frowning at her.

“Dylan and Joey are still somewhere in here,” Laura said. “And as much as I’d love to leave Joey here, I didn’t think you’d like that. And I can run faster than you, both of us know that. Just – climb the fence and stay safe.”

With that, Laura turned away from the gates, took a deep breath, and jogged off into the shadows.

 

* * *

 

 

She found their fire site quickly. The ground was scorched in a circle in the middle of the crossroads, and a heavy, flowery scent hung in the air. Laura clenched her jaw. She looked up and saw red eyes peering out between tombs in front of her. She sneered at them.

“If you’ve eaten them, I will kill you,” she snarled.

She thought she heard laughter, but at least the eyes disappeared, so maybe she sounded more confident than she felt. She straightened and turned in a circle, trying to decide which way to go. She wavered left – she thought she had gone that way after the fire exploded in their faces – and then a scream came from the right, and she took off after it.

At the end of the aisle, she paused and then went right. A second later, something came at her from the side, and she threw herself forward onto the grass. She rolled over and pushed herself up against a tomb, ready to dash off it was a shadow monster.

Instead, it was Dylan mirroring her position across the aisle from her.

Their eyes met and Laura debated whether or not this was the _real_ Dylan, when she heard laughter, and she twisted around to see red eyes right behind her. She gasped and backed away, stumbling over the uneven ground in her haste. “Shit, shit,” she found herself saying.

This shadow was shaped like Mary, and Laura was irrationally angry at that – because that shape belonged to her best friend in the world, and how _dare_ they take her shape – but had the same glowing eyes and sharp wide grin as the Not-Joey. Not-Mary slunk forward, and Laura backed away further.

It didn’t follow her, just spared her a glance, and she didn’t understand why until she realized that this meant Dylan was _real_ , it was Dylan, her friend, and he was about to get eaten. Or not.

Dylan stuffed his hand in his pocket and tossed a handful of something at the shadow monster, and the Not-Mary hissed and recoiled enough for Dylan to get around her. He grabbed Laura’s arm and tugged her around, and they ran away from the monster.

“What was that?” Laura demanded between gasps.

“Salt!” Dylan grabbed her arm again and tugged her down a side aisle. She gave up trying to keep the turns straight and just hoped he knew where he was going. “I saw it on TV!”

Laura laughed breathlessly. She wasn’t sure she wanted her life to depend on Dylan’s knowledge of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ but, if it worked, then it worked. “You always carry salt?”

“For fries.”

Dylan must have been onto something, because Laura could see the cemetery gates now, and even though her legs burned and it felt like there was a knife cutting into her right lung, she sped up a bit. She could do this – they could do this.

They skidded in the dewy grass in front of the gates, and Laura almost slammed into the metal bars before she caught herself. Dylan grabbed her waist and she squeaked when he shoved her up. She grabbed the top of the gate and pulled herself up to the top, swinging a leg over and balancing on the top.

Mary sat a few meters down, back to the concrete wall of the cemetery, but she looked up when the gates rattled. She leaped to her feet and ran over to clutch at Dylan through the bars of the gates. She looked fine in the light from the street, still trembling but not as noticeably.

“You’re coming, right, you’re coming?” Mary demanded.

“Not yet,” Dylan said, and Laura’s focus snapped to him.

“What?” she demanded.

Dylan glanced up at her, then back at Mary. “No, Joey’s in there.”

“But the monsters,” Mary cried, “They’ll _eat_ you –“ Her voice choked off and she folded down into herself again to hide her tears. “No, no, no,” she repeated quietly.

Laura clenched her jaw and closed her eyes. She blocked out her friends arguing beneath her, and then she swung her leg back over the gate and dropped to the ground beside Dylan. He broke off his argument with Mary and grabbed at Laura as if he could push her over the gate with sheer force of will. Laura snarled at him and batted his hands away.

“Shut up, shut up,” she snapped. “No, _listen to me_. If you’re going back in there, so am I, okay?”

“No,” Dylan said. “It’s too dangerous –”

“Fuck you,” Laura snapped. “No shit, it’s dangerous. We’ll split the salt.” She held her hand out, scowling at him and hoping that he couldn’t see her hesitation. She _really_ didn’t want to go back among the tombs, where the shadows were thick and full of monsters, but she wasn’t about to let Dylan go in alone.

Dylan glared down at her. She glared back.

Mary said, “Dylan, let her, it’ll be safer with two people, right?”

Laura looked over at her. Mary looked hopeful. She reminded herself that Joey was Mary’s brother, that Dylan was her boyfriend, and that Mary was her best friend. Of course she had to do this.

Laura said, “Mary’s right. Safety in pairs, right? Now _give me some damn salt_.”

Silently, Dylan handed a few packets over to her. They were the kind you’d find in McDonald’s, and it was hard to imagine they would protect her from the shadows. But it was better than nothing.

Laura ignored Mary and Dylan as they kissed goodbye – she was used to their behavior, but that didn’t meant she liked watching her friends kissing all the time – and surveyed the shadows in the cemetery. She thought she caught sight of red eyes several places, and she tightened her grip on the salt packets, but they were gone before she could focus on them.

After a moment, Dylan stepped up beside her and said, “You’re an idiot.”

“You too.”

“Glad we have that settled.” Dylan hunched his shoulders, taking a deep breath. Then he nudged Laura with a shoulder and jerked his head to the left. “Wanna try that way first?”

“Just as long as we don’t have to split up, Fred,” Laura replied.

They walked quickly along the aisle. Laura watched the left side, and Dylan watched the right side, and if they clutched at each other’s hands, then they certainly weren’t going to tell Mary and Joey and give them fodder for teasing them. They had been dropped into a horror movie, they deserved a free pass for this. Not to mention the fact that they were saving Mary’s and Joey’s asses.

The most horrible thing was the silence. Laura could hear Dylan next to her, and her breathing and footsteps and general noisiness, but nothing else. It was like a blanket was wrapped around the cemetery, dampening all signs of the outside world. Laura would be glad to be rid of it. She’d be glad to never feel this way again.

Red eyes, straight ahead.

Laura gripped the salt packets tighter and nudged Dylan. He nodded stiffly. They needed to get around the corner the shadow monster guarded, but Laura knew that she didn’t want to get any closer to it than she had to. They edged closer, and the shadow monster separated itself from the dark space between tombs, creeping on four legs, grin wide and full of knives.

It curled itself closer and Laura snarled at it. She hurriedly ripped open a packet of salt and held the grains in her hand, ready to be thrown. It hissed and recoiled a bit, but curled taller and farther around the corner. Dylan threw a handful of salt at the beast and it recoiled further. Laura stepped up and tossed hers as well, and handful by handful they worked their way around the corner until they broke into a run to get away from the monster.

Over the sound of her own breath, Laura heard a moan. She glanced at Dylan, but it wasn’t him. She stopped suddenly, straining her ears for the sound again. Dylan stopped a few meters away.

“What are you doing?” he demanded quietly.

Laura shook her head, hand out to stop him. There – the moan again. She cocked her head to the side and quietly stepped to one side of the aisle. She kept one hand one her salt, and cautiously stepped off the path and in between two tombs.

She almost tripped over Joey.

He was huddled in on himself, scratches and scrapes running up his arms and legs. He kept making these whimpers and moans, like he was hurt somewhere much worse that Laura couldn’t see.

“Dylan,” she whispered. She swallowed and wet her lips, then turned and called, “Dylan! Come here, I found him!”

Dylan could barely fit in the space between the tombs, so Laura had to grab one of Joey’s arms and drag him out into the open. Joey barely responded, not even uncurling from his fetal position. It was more work pulling him out of the niche he’d gotten himself into than it had been to run away from the shadow monsters.

She dropped him as soon as he was free and backed away to let Dylan at him. She turned in a circle to keep her eye out for more shadows – it seemed quiet for now, but that could change quickly. “How’s the idiot?” she asked.

“He’ll live,” Dylan replied, pulled Joey’s arm over his shoulders and stumbled to his feet. Laura put her hands out to steady them, but red eyes appeared behind their backs and she yanked out her salt. She prepared to throw it at the shadow before it could come out when she saw another pair of eyes.

And another.

And another.

“Oh no,” she said, because shadows were springing to life all around them and she had no idea if they had enough salt. Because this was more than a single shadow – this was a pack, a hunting pack, and Laura didn’t have to guess who was their prey.

“Go, go, go,” she muttered under her breath and pushed at Dylan and Joey. The three of them stumbled away from the shadows hunting them, too slowly for Laura’s taste. She darted around to Dylan’s other side and plunged her hands into his jacket to get the rest of the salt. He yelped in surprise and almost dropped Joey, but it was worth it when a shadow crept too close and Laura whirled around and dumped an entire packet of salt in its face.

It screeched and recoiled, leaving enough space for the three to get past.

Laura guarded her friends viciously. Shadows swirled around them, but she met each of them with salt and they swirled faster and faster to try and get past her. She was panting and dripping with sweat by the time they reached the gates again. Dylan pushed at Joey and Mary yelled at him and he managed to pull himself over to collapse on the other side. Dylan grabbed the salt packets form Laura, and she followed Joey. She leaped up and caught the top of the gate, swinging herself over in a quicker burst of adrenalin than she thought possible.

Dylan cast the rest of the salt in a wide arc and climbed over the gate as quickly as possible. The shadows recoiled and hissed at the salt, but lunged forward, recovering quickly. Dylan had barely reached the top of the gate when the shadows closed in on him, and he leapt from the top of the gate to avoid their claws and teeth like knives.

He hit the ground hard, rolling onto his back with the force. Laura dragged Mary and Joey after him, away from the gates where shadows still swarmed. The four of them stumbled several blocks away, hearts pounding in their ears.

They collapsed against a wall to catch their breath. Laura started crying again, and laughing at the same time. It was loud and sounded choked, almost hysterical. But she couldn’t stop – she couldn’t’ stop, because she could barely believe she was alive.

She was _alive_.


End file.
